


Making Magic

by james



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fake Dating, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mage!Eskel, Modern AU, OR IS IT, Triss/Yennefer mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29941023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Eskel, the mage, has been Geralt's friend and fuck buddy for a long time.  Now it's time for something to change.Like Geralt using his words.  That would be a nice change.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 66
Collections: Fisstech and Succubi 2021





	Making Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cathryn (remindmeofthe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/remindmeofthe/gifts).



Eskel looked at the text he'd just received from Geralt, and sighed. 

_Can you come over_

It wasn't an unusual message to get from his old friend, but of course the problem was that it could mean anything from Geralt wanting someone to get drunk and play Gwent with, asking Eskel over for a night of fucking, or that Geralt was dying from the after-effects of hunting a monster and desperately needed rescue. Eskel despaired of ever getting more useful information out of him, no matter how many times he begged. Well then, as Lambert readily pointed out, they were lucky Geralt carried a cellphone at all. The other Witchers all seemed more willing to accept new technologies as they came about, but Geralt acted like he'd prefer to be riding a horse through the Continent, wielding his swords and wearing leather and linen instead of denim and kevlar.

Witchers still carried their swords, but they rode motorcycles and drove trucks, carried handguns and shotguns – Lambert had gleefully adopted hand grenades practically the day they'd been invented. Vesemir kept track of his Witchers with cellphones and the internet, and all of them seemed perfectly content to make their living in the shiny new world.

All except Geralt, who seemed to get grumpier every passing year. He'd only started carrying a cellphone when Ciri had shown up with a broken arm and leg and, all wide-eyed innocent, said how she'd called everyone else when it had happened, it wasn't her fault that Geralt could only be contacted by carrier pigeon.

Granted, what he carried was an old flip phone, but Geralt insisted he needed something that wouldn't break when dropped or swallowed by a kikimore. (Eskel had to admit he had a point; Lambert had to replace his smartphone two or three times a year, even with it covered by Aretuzian warranties.)

But Geralt texted with as much brevity as he spoke regardless of the urgency of the situation. With another sigh, Eskel texted back that he was on his way, and went to grab his bag.

He'd offered to magick up Geralt's old Kerackian phone with emojis, explaining to Geralt that could add one to his messages to indicate which of the many 'come over' options he meant. Eskel had even pointed out he could use emojis _instead_ of words, wouldn't that be wonderful, Geralt.

Geralt had just scowled at him.

So Eskel kept a bag packed with anything he might need. Potions and herbs to replenish Geralt's own supply, if he was in need of life-saving. A bottle of White Gull and his deck of Gwent cards, if that was the evening's entertainment. If Geralt wanted to fuck, well, Eskel didn't really need _accessories._

And if he did, he could create them out of chaos just fine.

He glanced at his workroom and ensured the wards were in order, then opened a portal.

~ ~ ~

“I'm sorry, you what?”

Geralt didn't look like he was really convinced by what he'd said, either. Eskel was tempted to check him for magic spells. It wouldn't be the first time, though he was sworn to secrecy over the incident when Geralt had been cursed to speak only in rhyme. (Eskel didn't _have_ to tell anyone; Dandelion had somehow heard all about it, and now it was one of the more popular episodes of _The Witcher Show._ As much as Geralt complained about it, Eskel would happily point out that Geralt owned all the dvds of every show, movie, and musical the bard had made over the centuries.)

But Geralt just said it again. “I need you to go with me.”

“To Yennefer's Yule party,” Eskel repeated. Geralt nodded, looking chagrined. “And tell everyone we've finally started _dating_ instead of just--” He waved his hand, because what else was there to call it, but friends who had done rather a lot of everything together over the centuries, both in and out of bed.

There was a pause, then Geralt nodded again.

“And...they'll believe us, why?”

He wasn't prepared, yet, to ask Geralt why he wanted them to do such a thing. He was half-afraid that his reasons would actually turn out to be good ones. Geralt didn't tend towards completely outlandish plans – that was all his friend Dandelion, and if it turned out Dandelion was behind this, Eskel was going to be turning someone into a goat.

“We don't have to do anything different,” Geralt said. “Except...not leave the party with someone else.”

Eskel tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. “Obviously. Unless you want to tell everyone you've suddenly decided orgies are fun.”

Yennefer's parties did very often lend themselves to orgies, but Geralt usually didn't stick around for that part. He preferred his intimacy to be, well, intimate and private. Eskel knew he sometimes did sleep with Yennefer, off and on over the years, though for the past hundred or so years he thought perhaps they'd been more off than on. But even when he'd been following her around like a love-struck puppy, he hadn't ever accompanied her to an orgy.

Not, of course, that Eskel had been keeping track. He just tended to notice what Geralt was up to.

“It's only for one evening,” Geralt said. Then he paused. “Maybe a month or so after. But not – you don't have to _do_ anything.”

“Except lie to people.”

Geralt nodded. “Except lie.” There was a hint of a smile on his face and Eskel laughed.

“Please tell me why I would do this absolutely ridiculous thing. Who cares if we're dating?”

And _there_ it was, the guilty look. Geralt glanced away and Eskel was tempted to just read his thoughts, but he'd never really liked the feel of it. Forcing his way in – other mages took it as matter of course, and he knew Geralt viewed it much like his own heightened senses. He could hear things others couldn't, and there was nothing to be done about it other than accept it.

However, Eskel liked his privacy, and he so preferred to grant the same to others. If Geralt wanted him to know something, it was on him to _say_ it. 

Or not, as was the more usual case. Sometimes three word texts were all the words he got. Eskel wondered if he should steal Geralt's phone and make it send _only_ emojis. At least if he got a wine or eggplant emoji from Geralt he'd know what the man wanted.

“Lambert's bringing Aiden,” Geralt finally said.

“His ex-boyfriend?” Eskel asked, repeating the joke that Lambert had been making since the two of them had gotten married. Geralt sighed like his head hurt and Eskel grinned at him. “And you feel...competitive?”

But Geralt shook his head. He didn't immediately explain, and Eskel pulled out his phone, checking the time.

“I could be doing about four hundred other things right now. So if you want me to do this, you might consider actually telling me why.”

“I saw the guest list.” Geralt suddenly had a look on his face that seemed strangely like – defeat? “Yennefer settled down with Triss, did you know?”

Eskel shook his head. He didn't socialise with the other mages, much. He'd always felt a bit of an outsider, having been taken from the very Witcher keep that had raised Geralt, to be trained instead as a mage. Eight hundred years ago, and he still wondered what would have happened had he become a Witcher like Geralt.

Assuming he'd have survived.

Geralt rubbed at his face, and looked for a moment as old as his age. “Every person on the list is coming together, as a couple, or...or a – Ciri said they're called a trouple. Dandelion and his two ladies.” He shrugged, and didn't meet Eskel's eyes. “I was the only person on the entire list that was invited alone.”

“And you couldn't just bring me as a plus one?” Eskel asked, genuinely curious. Not wanting to hang out with people who were all together made sense, but why go the extra step and ask Eskel to pretend they'd finally gotten together for real? If Geralt was worried about having someone to talk to – well, all right that was probably never one of Geralt's concerns. 

But Yennefer's parties always had plenty of Witcher-strength alcohol and there was _always_ someone willing to play Gwent, so really there was no reason for Geralt to expect he'd be bored. 

“Why not just go find a monster to hunt the night of the party?” Eskel asked. Geralt had certainly done that before, sometimes not even on purpose.

Wincing, Geralt said, “Yennefer promised to cut my balls off if I ditched her party. I think she and Triss are planning something.”

That made sense, and yet it didn't, entirely. Eskel felt like he was missing something. He narrowed his eyes at Geralt – who very noticeably did not return his gaze.

Fuck it. “If you don't tell me what's going on I'm just going to read your thoughts,” he warned, then since he knew Geralt well enough that that wasn't going to make him talk – Eskel looked.

Geralt didn't say anything, just looked more and more embarrassed. And Eskel couldn't believe what he found.

“You're not going to be the only single person there!” Eskel exclaimed. “They're bringing in people to try to set you up!” 

“Please,” Geralt begged. “Please come with me and let me tell everyone we're together.”

“Which is why you can't ditch and go hunt monsters,” Eskel realised. “Yenn really will cut your balls off.”

“Eskel, please,” Geralt said again. “I'll do whatever you want, just please come with me. She's invited Regis who is bringing a _friend_ for me. Dandelion said he's got three friends that he's sure I'll love. _Lambert_ said he knows someone, and I'm pretty sure it's a Witcher and I'll be forced to kill both of them. I'm begging you.”

Shaking his head, Eskel told him, “It won't work. Yennefer will know it's fake. Every mage in the room will know it's fake.”

“You can't--” Geralt waved his hand at his head, apparently to mean that Eskel could somehow shield their minds from being read.

“No chance. If we show up, claiming to suddenly be together and our thoughts are shielded, they're going to know it's fake.” He thought for a moment. “There's only one option. It's almost a month until the party, right?”

Geralt nodded, looking suspicious. Well, he probably had right to be, but Eskel was extremely proud of his idea. Anyhow, he had no room to complain since he was the one who had brought Eskel into this in the first place. He moved forward and grabbed Geralt's arm, tugging him in.

“We have four weeks, then, to make it not be fake.”

He gave Geralt a kiss.

It took insultingly long for Geralt to catch on, but finally his arms came around Eskel, and held him close. Geralt kissed back with enthusiasm as he apparently got on board with Eskel's plan.

At least Eskel could stop keeping all his best Gwent cards in a go-bag, once he convinced Geralt that, strictly for verisimilitude, they needed to move in together.

Maybe, if this turned out to be Dandelion's idea, he wouldn't turn him into a goat after all.

Well, not permanently.


End file.
